“We’re not dealing with Infernals,” Reed said. “But we’ll get to that in a minute. Raguel wants you undercover as part of a team, not solo, which means you’ll need a husband. Hence the ring.”
Relief flooded her. “Oh, gotcha. Geez, you scared me for a minute. The whole champagne and music—”
“When Raguel explained the assignment to me, I realized the idea of marrying you had some merit.” He shifted on his feet and shoved his hands into the pockets of his Versace slacks. “So, why propose twice when I can do it right the first time?”
Eve gaped. “We’re not even dating at this point!”
“Because you’re hung up on Alec,” he shot back.
“And you’re a commitment-phobe.”
“Bullshit.” Reed glared down at her. “You know I want more than you’re giving me. You’re the one holding back.”
“The moment I saw the ring in the glass, I felt you freak out. I did, too.” She’d also wanted, with every fibre of her being, to love him the way he deserved to be loved, but that wasn’t something she could control.
“Because it was me offering the ring,” he accused. “Alec’s a dead-end. You know that.”
Eve wished she was wearing something more substantial than a robe while having this conversation. “Everything about being a Mark is a dead-end, Reed. I don’t see the point of trying to have a relationship when everyone is pursuing conflicting goals. You and Alec want to advance; I want to find a way back to my old life. There’s no way to make it work.”
He rocked back on heels. His jaw set at a stubborn angle. “I want you. That works.”
Her mouth curved with wry affection. “Sexual attraction has never been our problem. You won’t hear me saying there’s anything wrong with really great sex with someone you admire and like spending time with.”
“But. .?”
“But that’s not enough for me to commit to the life of a Mark, and that’s exactly what I’d be doing by committing to someone inside the system.”
“It could be hundreds of years before you earn off the Mark,” he said coldly, knowing she refused to accept that possibility. “No way are you going to be celibate that whole time and you’re not the casual sex type.”
“So marriage is your solution to getting into my pants?”
Reed shrugged. “Yours are the only pants I want to get into.”
She set her flute down on her glass-topped coffee table. “Putting the whole demon-hunting lifestyle aside, we’ve got other issues. I’ve never been to your house. I don’t even know if you live in Orange County, or if you shift to some other continent for a change of clothes. We’ve never gone anywhere together that wasn’t work related; you come to my place and that’s it. You join my life when it suits you and you disappear when it doesn’t. What we had was a working relationship with benefits.”
“Whatever, babe,” he scoffed, running a hand through his precisely cut hair. “You wouldn’t let it be more than that. Playing house is just what we need.”
Noting the sullen set of his mouth, Eve knew it was time to change the subject or argue pointlessly for hours. She took a seat on one of her cream-coloured down-filled sofas. “About playing house. . Explain what’s going on to me. Since when are vampyres not Infernals any more?”
There was no outward show of it, but she felt the relief that moved through him. “Vampyres with a ‘Y’ are demons, yes. Vampires with an ‘I’ aren’t. You weren’t trained about the second kind, because Marks aren’t supposed to deal with them. You’ll be the first.”
All Marks went through a comprehensive training program, something like a boot camp for recruits. Every classification of demon was discussed in depth, with a focus on how best to kill them.
“Of course,” she said dryly, not at all surprised that she was getting stuck with another crap-tas-tic assignment. Jerking her around was Entertainment #1 for angels of all ranks. “If vampires-with-an-I aren’t demons, what are they?”
Reed adjusted his slacks and sat beside her. “You’ve been taking a crash course in the Bible since you were Marked. Remember reading about the Watcher angels?”
“Two hundred angels were sent to observe human behaviour but they started fraternizing and doing other naughty things, including breeding children called Nephalim, etcetera.”
“That’s the ones. Once Jehovah saw what was going on, he sent an elite team of seraphim warriors — the Sentinels — down to punish the fallen Watchers. The Watchers lost their wings and became known as the Fallen. Wings and souls are connected, so without one they lost the other. Following?”
“Soulless, wingless fallen angels. Got it.”
He nodded. “Seraphim rely on their souls to survive. They don’t eat or drink the way mortals do. They absorb energy from the life-forces on earth.”
“So they starved to death?”
“I wish. No, they discovered they could feed from life in a more direct manner—”
“They started drinking blood,” she finished. “Okay. So there are two kinds of vamps — those who are demons and those who were angels? That’s why Adrian lives on earth? To hunt and kill the Fallen angels?”
“Jehovah has never ordered the death of an angel. Sammael wouldn’t be alive otherwise.”
“True. .” Satan was thriving. And she often wondered why, but that was a question no one seemed to have an answer for.
“The Sentinels are supposed to contain the Fallen to areas where they can’t get into too much trouble.”
“And Southern California is trouble galore. How many Sentinels are there?”
“Not enough.”
“Why send in just two of us undercover then? Wouldn’t more Marks be merrier?”
“I would think so, but this isn’t my call. Marks can’t sniff out the Fallen.”
“No souls translates into no smell?”
“You got it. We can’t afford to have too many Marks tied up indefinitely, plus the cost of housing, a decent cover story, and so on. Our resources aren’t limitless.”
“So we’re hunting someone who blends perfectly into the surroundings with nothing to give them away.” She made a frustrated noise. “What’s our cover?”
“We’re Mr and Mrs Kline. We’re renting the resort space because I have to be in town on business and you’re a trophy wife.”
She shot him an arch glance. “You’re a bit high profile for undercover work, aren’t you?”
“I’m a travelling businessman, babe. Aside from a car in the driveway at night, I won’t be seen.”
Basically, he wasn’t assuming a cover at all then. As long as she’d known him, he was always popping in and out. He came when she called, but otherwise, seeing him was a random thing.
Using his mal’akh gifts, Reed shifted the ring from the bottom of her glass into his hand, then slid it on to her finger. “This could be real, Eve. Think about it.”
He left without warning, disappearing before her eyes.
Eve collapsed into the sofa back with a groan.
Alec exhaled harshly and sank to the floor with his legs stretched out before him. He leaned into the shared wall between his condo and Eve’s, and closed his eyes.
Reed’s half-assed proposal had been too close for comfort.
When Eve had come knocking on Alec’s door earlier in the evening, he’d known about it even though he was far from home. She could have spoken to him through the connection between them, but she’d wanted to see him face-to-face. Ignoring that need had damn-near killed him, but he’d been deep into a negotiation he couldn’t interrupt. He’d bargained with the only thing he had of value — his willingness to do the dirty jobs no one wanted to be associated with — so he could have what he wanted most.